Kim and Jared
by mediate89
Summary: Kim and Jared's story as told by me.
1. Chapter 1

_Jared and Kim's story is a familiar one, one we can probably all relate to in one form or another. It's your typical: Girl likes guy, guy doesn't know girl exists, guy imprints on girl and they fall in love-- okay, maybe that last part is a little something only __**Stephenie Meyer**'__s world could add... but this is what it is. _

_Jared and Kim's story as told by me._

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Kim's POV

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

I reached over and smacked the snooze button on my alarm clock. The beeping ceased and I was able to drift back to sleep for nine more minutes. Nine glorious minutes until....

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Grinding my teeth together and mentally cursing the Board of Education or whoever the hell decided it would be a good idea to start school before the sun came up, I switched off my alarm and rolled clumsily out of bed. God, it was cold. And I really needed a shower today.

I walked over to my window and pulled the curtains open, casting a new grey light all over the room. The sudden chill of my body against the window pane made me shiver and I dreaded the idea of losing my clothing to the bathroom floor. But there were some things you just had to do, and I definitely _had_ to wash my hair.

Knowing there was no time to stall on a Monday, I cranked up my bedroom space heater, decided to brave the elements and trudged sleepily down the stairs. Everyone else, meaning my mother and younger sister, was still asleep so I had the cold, dark bathroom all to myself. Goody.

As it is with showers, the experience was actually kind of nice once I got in and let the heat of the water penetrate my freezing body, but I had stupidly decided to use conditioner which took up a large chunk of my time. For some reason, rinsing conditioner out of my hair was always a bitch so I usually ended up spending ten extra minutes just standing under the shower head, which left no time for shaving my legs. Lucky for me, people in the Olympic Peninsula didn't generally wear shorts in the middle of November.

By the time I was dried, dressed and in the kitchen a decent breakfast was no longer an option. I reluctantly grabbed a box of instant oatmeal from the cupboard and went to the refrigerator to get some milk. I groaned out loud when I opened the door and found that the top shelf of the fridge was completely bare. A quick look at the trashcan told me that someone had recently finished off the gallon. Oatmeal with milk was gross, but oatmeal with just _water_ was almost enough to make me want to skip breakfast altogether. I was grumbling something about irresponsible parents and their inability to keep any food in the house when my sister, Alexandra, walked into the room and dropped her backpack onto the kitchen table with a thud.

"Did you take a shower?" She asked.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Yeah. I used conditioner too. Can you tell?"

"It looks the same to me."

I rolled my eyes and slammed the microwave door shut. "Did you eat already?"

"Yes."

"What'd you have?"

"Cereal."

I turned on the spot and glared at her. "So _you_ drank all the milk."

"There was like a cup left," she replied defensively.

I scoffed and threw my bowl of uneaten oatmeal into the sink. "Whatever. I'm not even eating this."

After a quick trip to the living room to grab my books and jacket I returned to the kitchen to get my car keys. Thankfully I had my own car and a license so we didn't have to ride the bus to school. God forbid I ever have to step foot in one of those vehicles again.

Alexandra was already waiting by the front door with her bag slung over her shoulder and an air of impatience surrounding her.

"Hey, you can walk to school," I reminded her, reaching for the peg that held my key chain.

"You just wait until I get my license next month, and it's my turn to have the car and you're at _my_ mercy, you slowpoke. I'll leave you."

"Sure. You coming?" By the time her speech was over I was already several steps over the threshold.

"Yeah, I'm right behind you," she grumbled, obviously unhappy that I hadn't taken her threat seriously. Victory.

I climbed into the drivers seat and turned the car over. Still slightly irritated with me, Alex hopped into the passenger's side and shoved her books down by her feet. We didn't talk as I pulled out of the driveway but I couldn't help but cast a longing look in her direction when she gathered her long, thick hair into a perfect ponytail. Everyone always said we looked a lot alike, but I certainly didn't see it. She was pretty and definitely got the better end of the stick when it came to hair genes. Her features were much more delicate than mine and she was taller; the epitome of classic beauty. I was the opposite of every great physical quality she possessed and sometimes wondered what would it would be like if I looked more like her. Would I have more friends? Would I be a snob? Would I be able to get any guy I wanted? Not that I wanted a lot of guys, there was only one really, but would he notice me the way I noticed him?

Alex didn't have any trouble getting guys, she had a boyfriend -- a popular one who only talked to me because he was dating her. It was disheartening to think about sometimes. Popularity wasn't what I was after and I loved my friends, but if being in the cool crowd was what it took to get Jared Tipree to say my name, then I'd throw away my lifestyle without a second thought.

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My first class of the day was a forty-minute study period and also the only class I had with Jared, so that automatically made it my favorite. When I entered the cafeteria that doubled as a study area in the mornings it was still fairly empty. Jared always came in closer to the bell and I waited anxiously for his arrival. I was extremely grateful he wasn't one of those 'school skippers'. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if he were one of those guys who only shows up for class a few days out of the week. He'd only missed three days so far this year, and that was because he'd had a really bad cold. I had debated with myself for two hours straight on whether or not I should walk over to his house and drop off some chicken soup. People ate chicken soup when they were sick, didn't they? Or would I seem too desperate to see him and freak him out? I had eventually decided to skip the chicken soup idea and play hard to get. Yeah, hard to get was definitely the way to go.

Hard to get didn't seem to be getting me anywhere.

Nearly every seat was taken when I started watching the doorway for Jared. After a few moments my heart sped almost as if it could tell he was about to round the corner. My eyes inadvertently looked down at the table in front of me as soon as he appeared but I immediately brought them back to him. I was skilled at admiring from afar, and so far I hadn't been caught staring at anybody, but he was too beautiful for me to be worrying about conventions. Especially looking the way he did today. Apparently some people _do_ wear shorts in November. He was also wearing my favorite black t-shirt, stretched tight across his newly-formed chest and was carrying a single notebook with a little pen sticking out of the coils. He nodded at one of his buddies and then took a seat one row up and two tables down from me. I was facing his back but that and the angle at which he was sitting made watching him a shameless effort.

Halfway through class the desire to see Jared again won out over the necessity of doing my homework. He was hunched over what looked like a math book, no doubt borrowed from the kid sitting at the end of his table. I couldn't help but notice the way his jet black hair, now hanging just above his ears shone under the fluorescent lighting, or the way his muscles tensed under his smooth, dark skin every time he moved his arm to write something. I wasn't even trying to be discreet. He had really started filling out over the past few weeks and I hated the idea of every pretty girl at the Quileute Tribal School begging for his attention. Shallow girls, the ones who would only like him for his looks. The ones who probably never noticed the way he rose an eyebrow when he was thinking, or the way he cleared his throat and fidgeted every time he was called on in class.

It was these little things that finally drew me to him. I'd known him since my Freshman year of high school, where everybody knows everybody, but he didn't stand out to me right away. It wasn't until I was put in one of his classes and started seeing him for who he was that I started to fall in love with him.

Now I didn't think I would ever get used to the way my stomach fluttered whenever I saw him approach, or the jittery calm that washed over my body whenever he was near. It hurt to know that he probably never got the same reaction from seeing me and in my heart I knew he would never be mine but I was lost in every moment I spent thinking about him, entirely consumed and I couldn't bring myself to wish for an end. It was such a thrilling tragedy to be a part of. Very Shakespearean....

My eyes found their way to the header on the top right hand corner of my English essay.

_Kim Connweller  
Nov. 12th, 2004.  
LA 4_

After a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, I nonchalantly removed the second part of my name. Very lightly, so it would be easy to erase, I filled in: _Kim Tipree_ and smiled; it looked nice.

Suddenly Jared lifted his head and his gaze focused on something at the front of the room. I wish I hadn't looked to see what it was. Megan Bennett, your typical beautiful girl, was offering her passbook to the teacher to sign. I immediately hated her. I didn't blame Jared for liking pretty girls, but the way he was absentmindedly twiddling his pen between his fingers while he concentrated on a girl like Megan Bennett bothered me more than it should have.

After class was over, the rest of the day was very unexciting. Sure I could scope Jared out in the hallways or during lunch, but that couldn't even begin to compare to a full-length class period and my heart barely had time to register that he was there before he was gone again.

The reprieve I usually got during Science was even ruined. I was staring at the blackboard, wondering if I'd done the wrong vocabulary assignment when I felt an elbow nudging at my side. I looked over at my friend Erica who was sending some not-so-subtle nods in the direction of the hallway.

"There he is!" she hissed.

"Dude, shut up!" I whispered back.

I could feel my face turning red, but she was making it obvious and people could see!

The Science room was located right in front of Jared's locker and now was the time he picked up his Spanish book, so I was usually braced for the familiar sighting. Not being entirely ready today was my mistake. I had a feeling half the class probably knew of my obsession for Jared Tipree, but I wasn't looking for a confirmation. Erica grinned and looked down at her homework, trying unsuccessfully to refrain from laughing. She knew I hated it when she made a scene and I suspect that's exactly why she did it.

I turned my attention to Jared just as he was kneeling down and watched him balance himself on one knee as he rifled through his stash. For a moment I didn't care if anyone saw me marveling at the way his shoulders moved beneath his shirt, those perfect muscles moving smoothly and uninterrupted. His arms were flawless and Herculean, ripped and sinewy. I could only dream about what he looked like _under _his shirt, and my stomach went into full knot mode, twisting and churning as I thought of Jared, the smooth skin of his neck continuing unbroken by the barrier of his shirt. His chest would be lust-worthy, his perfect pectoral muscles hardening at my touch. The skin of his stomach would be flat and his abdominal muscles compacted, and a shiver would escape his desirable lips as he moaned my name...

"Kim!" It wasn't Jared's voice that broke me out of my reverie. It was Erica and she was rolling her eyes.

"My god, get over it. Can I see your vocab?"

I threw my paper at her and turned back just in time to see Jared walking away with his Spanish book tucked securely under his arm. Erica was going to get it later for interrupting my fantasy. I let out a sigh when I realized again that that's all it would ever be. A meaningless daydream.

Jared was the ultimate guy of my dreams. But he was too good for me. And everyone knew it.

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_Please Review_.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: All of the characters you recognize belong to Stephenie Meyer_

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Freezing rain pounded relentlessly on my windshield as I made the turn off of the I-10 junction that led onto La Push's main street. It was only four-thirty in the afternoon but the sky was so darkened by rain clouds that I had to squint when I came upon the bright yellow traffic signal hanging in the middle of the intersection. My old Bronco gave a metallic screech as I pressed down on the brakes. The tires slid and sputtered, causing me to swerve mid-coast before I finally stopped safely in front of the light, now bathing the entire street in a ruby glow.

I had planned on going shopping with Erica this afternoon but my mother wouldn't hear of it, not with the roads being as slippery as they were. Even with the promise of taking every back way I knew into Forks, the answer was still no. But when my manager called and asked me to come into work, she couldn't object. We needed the money my crappy after-school job provided and with tourism season at an end, I needed to take advantage of every extra hour.

The light flashed green and the car gave another groan as I carefully pressed on the accelerator, slowly closing the distance between myself and the restaurant.

I parked my car in the back lot by the kitchen door, and raced inside to avoid getting drenched by the frigid rainfall. I was met by a wall of sound as soon as I stepped into the building. Pots clinked as they hit the cook-top. Pans of every shape and size sizzled and bubbled, filling the air with a variety of smells. My co-workers shouted and laughed in raucous conversation.

"Kim, you're in the back today," Lisa, the owner of the restaurant, informed me as I grabbed a clean apron off the hook.

"Great," I mumbled, watching half heartedly as she pushed her way back through the Employees Only door. I hated being in the back. That was where dishwashers and cooks worked. Apparently, I was going to be one of them tonight.

The afternoon dragged on insufferably, and I started to wonder why I had even been asked to work. The icy roads should have been a big indicator that we weren't going to have many customers. Only a nut would be out driving in this kind of weather unless they had to be. When employees started being sent home early, I was among the first to be asked if I wanted to leave. Since I'd already taken the time to drive in, I offered to stay. Everyone else left eagerly, leaving only Lisa, Pat and myself to handle the rest of the dinner hour.

"Kim, look." I was nearly finished with my shift and scrubbing at a stubborn pot when Pat, twenty years old and one of the only males working at The Riverside Restaurant, pointed a large plastic spoon in the direction of the dining room. I blew my bangs out of my face and looked up through the large serving window situated above the sink. It only took a second to see what Pat was trying to point out.

My heart hammered in my chest as my eyes landed on none other than Jared, and my stomach sank as soon as I realized he wasn't alone. If he'd been with his mother I wouldn't have been so bothered, but the girl he was with was definitely no one's mother. I watched as he draped her jacket over the back of her chair and then pulled the seat out for her. I didn't recognize her, so she wasn't from the rez. I knew the first and last name of every student at the tribal school and this... girl with her brilliant auburn hair and pale skin was most certainly not a classmate of mine.

I scoffed and went back to scrubbing my pan with a little more force than I'd been using. Of course he had a girlfriend. I should never have been naive enough to think that just because he wasn't seen with his arm around a girl at school, he was single. Unless he was gay, there was no way Jared Tipree would be single, and probably not even then. I couldn't help glancing up at them again. They were eating under the dim glow of the muted light fixture hanging above their table. Jared was wearing a t-shirt again--he didn't even have a jacket with him. Maybe it was just my imagination, but the muscles in his arms seemed to strain against the limitations of his shirt even more than usual. He had to be on some crazy steroid because even if he'd started working out all day, every day there's no way he would take on that sort of appearance in a matter of a few months.

I was cleaning out the sink, trying to get the last of the suds to go down the drain, when I saw them, out of the corner of my eye, scoot their chairs away from the table. Their table was littered with the remains of an unfinished meal and they seemed to be arguing about something. I straightened my back so I could better see into the dining room, and watched curiously as their voices rose louder and louder. Jared seemed upset. My eyebrows drew together, and I barely registered Pat rustling beside me to get a better view. I turned off the faucet so I could better hear what was being said, but their hushed voices made eavesdropping difficult.

We watched them head over to the service area to pay. Lisa ambled over to them cheerily, and I could tell by the way her lips moved that she was asking if they'd enjoyed the meal. The girl nodded pleasantly while Jared reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He handed Lisa a charge card and snaked his arm around his date while he waited for the transaction. Lisa took the card to swipe it and after a few unsuccessful tries, handed it back to him with a frown on her face. I could just make out her voice from my place in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry sir, it's not going through."

Jared's voice was deeper and much clearer. "There shouldn't be anything wrong with it; I just used it."

Pat nudged me with his arm and gave me a look that said 'this is gonna be good'. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the scene before me.

Lisa tried the scan again and then shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, it's not taking. Do you have another form of payment?"

"No!" Jared shouted, and it made me start. "I _just _used it."

Lisa looked taken aback for a moment but quickly regained her professional stance. "Sir, the register isn't taking it. There's nothing I can do."

Jared ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, hopefully trying to calm himself, because his girlfriend looked a little worried-- not that I cared about her really, but I liked Lisa and there was no telling the damage he could do if he lost his temper. He grabbed the card out of Lisa's hand.

"This is bullshit," he muttered, before rummaging through his wallet to produce a twenty dollar bill. "Is that gonna be good enough for you?" His voice was dripping with dangerous sarcasm and he was getting closer to the edge of the counter.

Shock coursed through my veins. Why was Jared acting like this? He always seemed so laid back in school--could he really be taking some kind of illegal drug? People had always talked about Jared--popularity breeds rumors--and drug usage was always the number one topic of those rumors. I shrugged it off as mindless gossip. But seeing him here now, about to lose it over a credit card scan, made me wonder if there might be some truth in it.

"Jared, stop," his girlfriend pleaded. She seemed just as surprised as I was with Jared's behavior, and was eyeing him warily. "It's fine; let's just go."

Jared pocketed his change, glared at my manager and then took the girl's hand, leading her out the door.

"I can't believe you like that guy." I turned to throw a dishrag at Pat but he skipped expertly out of the way.

"Let's just get this place cleaned up so we'll have an easy close," I suggested.

"On it." He picked the dishrag up off of the floor and tossed it to me before heading to the cooler to inventory its contents.

When I crawled into bed that night I couldn't help remembering the look on Jared's face as he yelled at Lisa—the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the veins in his neck bulging out, the sneer on his usually smiling lips. In all the years I'd known him I had never seen him look like that. Worst of all, though, were his eyes. It was like he was someone else. More frightening than the look of sheer rage in them was the look of fear. Whatever was going on with him, he wasn't in control of it, and he didn't like it. I went to sleep hoping that tomorrow he'd be better. That whatever had happened tonight was just some passing thing.

But Jared wasn't in school the next day, or the day after that.

Rumors really started flying halfway through the second week of his absence. They said he'd been seen hanging out with a suspected drug dealer but I refused to believe it. I knew in my heart Jared wouldn't get himself caught up in things like that. Or at least, I hoped I knew. Seeing him at the restaurant left me with an uneasy feeling. Instead of being afraid and turned off like I should have been, I felt like something was wrong—like there was something I should be doing to help him. I didn't care what trouble he was in—I just wanted to find out what was wrong and help him fix it in any way I could.

But after three weeks I was no closer to finding out what was going on, and Jared still hadn't come back to school. I'd never gone so long without seeing him. Even during the summer I saw him around town—I made sure of it. Jared's absence was starting to weigh heavily on me. Every morning I would walk past his locker and hope to find him there. I would watch his seat in study hall until the first period bell rang. It remained empty, and the place he occupied in my heart felt the absence acutely.

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_Uh oh, something's wrong with Jared!! Leave a review to find out what. I'm sure you have no idea. ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N – So sorry about the wait! I think it's been 22 days since I last updated. That wasn't supposed to happen, lol. Part of the reason it took so long is because I'm an idiot. I was waiting and waiting and waiting to hear back from my beta, so I eventually asked her about it and it turns out.... I never even sent the damn chapter! So now I'm posting really quick before I go to work. Excuse any mistakes you might see as a result._

_Thanks for waiting!_

_And of course, I own nothing important._

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_**CHAPTER 3**_  
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"Maybe they were breaking up?"

"Or maybe he's just psycho," Erica suggested for the thousandth time. We'd been talking about what I'd seen at the restaurant almost non-stop over the last several weeks. Erica was always my go-to girl when I needed to talk about something. She'd been interested in my Jared-restaurant situation at first, but around the tenth discussion she started getting bored. I knew she was tired of hearing about it, but I couldn't bring myself to let it go.

Talking about Jared kept him in the room with me when he was physically nowhere near, and I was genuinely worried about him this time. He hadn't been in school since I'd seen him at work. Every day I would hold out hope that he would walk into study hall like he always had, but every day I was let down. I was starting to get scared, antsy; I started coming up with worst-case scenarios that were seeming all the more likely as time wore on. Maybe he was seriously ill, maybe he'd dropped out of school... maybe he'd moved. My stomach hurt at the idea of never seeing Jared again.

Erica sat propped up against the pillows on my bed, rifling through one of my many school notebooks. I was lying on my stomach near the foot of the mattress trying to finish my math assignment. I'd asked Erica to stay the night tonight and our moms had agreed provided we get some homework done.

"Kim, seriously..."

Erica's voice issued from beside me, her tone flat, and I looked up to see what she what she was talking about. She held my notebook, opened to a random page, up for me to see. My heart fluttered when I saw what she'd found, what no one was _ever_ supposed to find, not even Erica. Jared's name written in different colored inks all across the page, my first name with his last name attached to the end, and the 'LOVE' game that calculates the percentage you have of going out with your crush. I cursed myself for not remembering to tear the page out and throw it away.

"Alex probably did that," I defended myself lamely. I was only half serious and now more embarrassed by my cover story than the reason I had to make one. Nevertheless, I embellished it. "Probably just another way to make fun of me about it."

"Alex did what?" I jumped. Alex was poking her head through my doorway, looking at us expectantly. What in the world was she doing here?

"Nothing. Killed a cat. What do you want?" I answered quickly.

She let the cat comment slide, and thankfully, didn't actually seem interested in why her name was mentioned in the first place. "Mom's ordering pizza. What do you guys want on it?"

"Mushrooms," I answered automatically, turning back to my homework. My heart was still pounding from Erica's recent discovery, but the prospect of pizza took my mind away from the situation for a moment.

"It doesn't matter; I like everything," Erica responded. I knew she didn't like pepperoni, but she was too polite to say so. Even though she'd been my best friend since third grade, she was still a little shy around my family.

"We don't want pepperoni," I added for her as I filled in the answer to a particularly difficult problem.

"So, mushrooms... no pepperoni." I didn't even have to watch to know that Alex was ticking each item off on her fingers, and looking up at the ceiling with her gorgeous doe eyes. It was a habit of hers. "Extra cheese, sardines--"

My head snapped up and I looked at her, horrified. "You're not putting fish on it!"

Alex smiled sweetly before turning and running down the hall. I rolled my eyes. For a sixteen year old, she really could act like a child sometimes.

"She's just kidding," I assured Erica, who looked a bit disgusted herself.

"I hope so," she mumbled, turning back to the notebook resting in her lap. Instead of starting another inquiry like I expected her to, she closed the notebook and dropped it to the floor beside my bed. She must have been too appreciative of my sparing her from eating pepperoni to question the new angle of my obsession any further. Either that, or she really didn't want to talk about it anymore.

It wasn't until we were curled up under my covers that she decided to intervene.

"Kim?" she whispered, the first sound I'd heard in the ten minutes since I'd turned my bedside lamp off.

"What?" I answered just as quietly. It wasn't as though speaking in normal tones would have kept anyone else awake, there was something about the darkness that made whispering seem more natural.

"You're getting kind of weird with your Jared-obsession thing."

My heart faltered.

I didn't say anything. I could feel her turning to look at me, but I kept my gaze fixated on the blackness above us.

"Really, Kim. I mean, I know you like him, but..." She paused and sighed, a pitiful sound. "But he's never going to like you back. You know how these things work. He's just not your guy, Kim. And I think you should stop holding out hope for someone who's never going to come around."

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest now, and I glared at the ceiling without meaning to. It hurt. Not because it was Erica who said it, although I did feel a slight stab of betrayal at her words, but because I knew she was right and I didn't want to hear it. A voice in my head was screaming that everything she had just said was nonsense, that anything could happen... that Jared and I were perfect for each other. But the other, more logical voice, much quieter and very unwanted, was agreeing with my friend.

A few seconds passed before the conversation was continued.

I could feel the tension between us in that moment. Erica was holding herself up on one elbow, looking down at me, but I had yet to move or respond to her statement. I was debating on how to answer. A part of me wanted to tell her I wasn't crazy for having a crush, an instinct to defend myself, but another part of me wanted to voice my own concerns to the one person I could share them with.

Finally, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and turned my head.

"I know. I've tried to get over him because it _is_ weird, I know it is, but I can't. I just... there's just something about him, and I don't care if he doesn't want me back, I know he doesn't, but I can't help wanting him just the same."

I could hear the desperation in my voice and Erica sighed again before landing back down on her pillow.

"Well just so you know he's never going to want you back."

"Of course I know that. I'm not stupid."

"And that you're wasting your time and only hurting yourself."

"I get it."

"And that you're probably missing out on tons of other opportunities."

I scoffed.

"Yea right. Besides, I don't want anyone else. I know it's dumb but I'd rather spend the rest of high school wanting a guy that will never want me back than settle for second best. And believe me, anyone else would be second best."

"Sure. Well, I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight," Erica said with an air of finality. She rolled over so that her back was to me and I did the same to her.

"Night," I mumbled.

Nothing more was said before we drifted off to sleep.

At school, I tried to take Erica's advice to heart by keeping my eye out for someone who might catch my interest, but going to school on a reservation made seeing any new faces nearly impossible. I'd already been through all of the old ones and none of them appealed to me the way Jared's did. I began to fear that none ever would.

We changed semesters the second week of January so I no longer had first period study hall. Instead, I had first period Home Economics, and fourth period World History. Even with the change of scenery the school year remained unexciting.

As the year continued I tried to think of Jared less and less. I missed him, but I'd accepted that he wasn't coming back. At least not to finish this year. He might be back next if I was lucky, but no one recovered from missing almost two months of school, and all of their midterms.

As much as I'd tried to not think about him, to think about anyone--anything--other than him, it rarely worked. Many times I would wonder if he was alright, or if he was still even on the rez. It had helped a little when the gossip surrounding his disappearance had died down, though not hearing his name in the halls, even if it was being whispered in connection with some new rumor, was bittersweet. I craved news of him, but I also knew that nothing my vapid, brainless classmates knew would be anything close to the truth.

It took me by complete surprise, when, during the second week in February, when cheap paper Valentines and chalky candy hearts were finding their way into lockers and onto desks, I thought I heard his name mentioned as I passed a cluster of girls near the front doors to the school. Frigid winter air followed me through the door, but through that and the knit cap on my head I heard one of the girls, Chelsea, say that she thought she'd seen him, but he looked so different, so much "hotter".

I shrugged it off. Surely she hadn't seen him. No one had. He was gone.

But later, as I made my way from my third period classroom to fourth, I could have sworn I heard his laughter. I recognized it, surely, because how many times had I wished that I was the one to cause it? To have told him something worthy of him eliciting a genuine laugh? My eyes scanned the faces in the hall, though, and he was no where to be found.

I got to class, found my seat quickly, and began rifling through my backpack. I was entirely unenthusiastic about the upcoming lecture on the Suez Canal. Not only that, but we were supposed to split into groups after we took our notes. The very prospect made my stomach churn. I hated group work. Either everyone in the group ignored me, or they expected me to do all of the work so they could talk and screw around. What made this class worse than the subject itself was the fact that I was completely without any of my friends. Being in a room filled with people who thought they were too good to even look at you made finding a group to join a terrible ordeal.

The tardy bell rang and the murmuring among my classmates ceased as they all settled into their desks. I pulled my composition out and began reading it over, wanting to check for any mistakes I might have missed before I turned it in.

I could tell when Mr. Reed entered the room without even having to raise my eyes off of the page in front of me. He shuffled when he walked, so it looked like he never picked his feet up off of the floor--he just dragged them along after him like an afterthought.

"Mr. Tipree, you can have a seat right over there," he said.

I froze.

I could sense the tension and curiosity in the air as everyone shifted in their seats to gawk at the intruder. I still hadn't looked up, afraid of what I would--or wouldn't--see. Each second seemed to drag and I became acutely aware of the sound of heavy footfalls across the linoleum floor. It seemed as though everyone else was as still and silent as I was.

I slowly lifted my head for a quick look and my breath caught in my throat. My heart began to race, faster if possible, than it had been before.

It was Jared.

Jared, In the flesh and standing not ten feet from me. Wearing my favorite black t-shirt and a scowl on his face.

I watched him stride toward the back of the room with an unnatural amount of grace and a level of confidence I hadn't seen in him before. His self-assurance wasn't the only change he'd gone through. If he was the subject of rumors about steroids before, he certainly wouldn't be dispelling those accusations now. His arms, chest, legs--his whole body--was enormous, and to his already substantial height he'd added at least four or five inches. He towered over his classmates as he made his way between the desks. He stopped at the seat directly in front of me, the only available one left in the room, and sat down in a slow, fluid movement.

The teacher cleared his throat again and all eyes reluctantly returned to him. But I could only pretend to hear what he was talking about as my mind raced with thoughts of the boy--no, man--sitting right in front of me. I could barely keep my fingers from reaching out to touch his back. I just wanted to feel him--to prove he was here, now, and not just some wonderful hallucination. I could feel the warmth emanating from his body, could watch his body expand with every measured breath, could detect his scent--like wind and sun and rain all at the same time. He was real, he was back, and he was sitting inches in front of me.

No one could keep their eyes on the projector for long, and I caught several students stealing glances in Jared's direction. He didn't seem to notice. He held the same tense posture and kept his eyes on his paper. He seemed, if anything, a little agitated. I could understand. Being free of the prison of school for a few months only to come back to inane classes with even more inane teachers must be frustrating. I wondered why he had come back now--what had made him return.

The lecture ran over so we didn't have any time left for group work. Normally I would have been overjoyed, but I couldn't find it in myself to care either way. We were given an in-class book assignment instead and I tried to focus on my reading. It was a vain attempt.

Five minutes before the bell, I heard an incessant clicking noise coming from somewhere near me. It took me a moment to realize that it was the sound of a mechanical pencil out of lead, and another second to notice that it was coming from the seat in front of me. Though I was trying as hard as I could to pay attention to the assignment on my desk, my eyes kept drifting up to take in the expanse of Jared's broad back and shoulders, so I noticed when he turned to face the boy across the row from him.

"Do you have any lead?" Jared whispered. He voice sounded more hoarse than I remembered.

"No," the boy responded carefully. He eyed Jared warily for a moment before turning back to his assignment.

At the front of the class the teacher cleared his throat again, looking pointedly at Jared, who let out a frustrated sigh and hung his head. He took a few deep breaths before straightening his body.

Afraid of drawing attention to myself by having to rummage noisily through my bag, I always kept my extra container of lead sitting on my desk. My fingers closed themselves around the cylinder now, as my heart began to beat faster. I desperately wanted to offer him some of my lead, but I didn't think I could initiate it. We'd never spoken, and now didn't seem like an appropriate time to do so. It looked like he was already in hot water with our teacher, and I didn't want to get him into any more trouble.

I released the container from my now sweaty hand, and once again tried to focus on the work before me. Before I could write a single letter, though, a hand rested on the corner of my desk, stealing my attention. It was tanned and rough, showing signs of wear. I followed the arm up to the wrist, elbow, shoulder, before I settled naturally onto Jared's face. Our eyes locked, and for the first time I knew he was looking directly at me.

A strange look came across Jared's face making him appear, at once, entirely at peace and completely enthralled. He was looking at me as though he knew I had all of life's answers. For myself, feeling Jared's gaze resting on me had the absolute opposite effect than what I had imagined. My heart, so recently beating so fast it felt like it might gain traction and plow out of my chest, settled into a comfortable rhythm. My hands relaxed out of their fists and I waited patiently for him to speak.

Jared opened and closed his mouth a few times, but failed to tear his eyes from mine. He licked his lips as he floundered for words, trying out a few sounds but finding none he was happy with.

After a few moments he found his words.

No, just one word, and it was one of the only words I'd ever really and truly wished he would say.

"...Kim."

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